


The Tie that Binds

by ead13



Category: Horizon: Zero Dawn (Video Game)
Genre: Afterlife, Father-Daughter Relationship, Gen, Rost's wife and child
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-02
Updated: 2019-06-02
Packaged: 2020-04-06 21:08:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19070716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ead13/pseuds/ead13
Summary: It's over. As soon as he watched Aloy achieve her dream, the one he had dedicated himself to helping her attain, everything comes crumbling down around them. There are some perks to dying, no doubt, but there are also regrets.





	The Tie that Binds

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, I realize we all knew it was going to happen. For me, it was when Rost mentioned going to a place Aloy couldn't follow. I don't particularly care if it was a cliché plot point. The bottom line is that somehow, despite having only played for an hour or two, I was tearing up at his death. This piece is the result of me feeling like not enough was said, and wanting to explore that dynamic further.

Long ago, nearly eighteen winters now, Rost had made a promise, sworn in the presence of the All-Mother, to the cooing baby girl in his arms: I’m here, and wherever you go, I will follow. High Matriarch Teersa had requested it of him, but there was never any hesitation in his heart from the moment the bundle was handed over to him. Aloy, so tiny and helpless, left to the mercy of the wilds with only him to protect her… No one that had ever been a father could deny a child life. As it was, perhaps the All-Mother was giving him another chance to raise a daughter.

Raise her he did. Now, the little girl was grown to a fiercely independent young woman. Focused. Determined. Strong and cunning. He’d remained at her side the entire way, teaching her everything she could possibly need to know to survive in the world on her own in preparation for the day he could no longer keep that promise. It wasn’t that he wanted to abandon her; All-Mother knew how it hurt him to think of the day it would be so. With nothing left for him, Aloy was his world. Still, his duty to the tribe and the traditions he valued would soon conflict with his duty to her. She would, without a doubt, pass her Proving and lose her outcast status. That was the entire purpose of his strict training. Once this happened, he could not follow. He would remain an outcast. 

Before she entered the village to begin the ceremonies, he’d informed her of that potential future. This parting was likely a final farewell, and he handed her his deceased daughter’s amulet to make that clear. In typical Aloy fashion, she denied the need for such a thing and swore she would find him wherever he was and talk to him even if he never said a word back. He knew her by now, knew her stubbornness, and should have expected her refusal to accept the situation. She relented in the end, but only long enough to actually complete the trial. It would be foolish to expect her to forget their argument and her vow. Could he hide in a place she couldn’t find? He’d taught her how to track, but what if the student surpassed the teacher in this? He’d have to go far away, perhaps leave the Sacred Lands he loved. It was for her own good.

That problem would have to wait. Just one more time, he would follow her and watch over her from the shadows as she competed. He’d earned that much.

The Proving was going about as well as he had predicted it would. While Aloy was more than prepared for all the physical challenges, there had been no preparing her for the torment doled out by fellow competitors. When a boy shot the trophy from her quick and efficient kill out of her hands, leaving it shattered in glittering metallic shards, and when the proctor flashed that smug smile and gestured condescendingly for her to find a replacement, Rost worried she would explode. Aloy had a temper, always did. She hated the tribe despite his best efforts. She hated the rules and taboos despite how he had raised her. Many years ago, it was only his well-timed arrow that had stopped her from nailing a boy in the head after he injured her.

Today, it seemed that Aloy was swallowing her pride. That was how badly she wanted this, he reflected. Arguing or fighting over it would slow her down and prevent her from winning. It was much to his relief that she gripped her bow tighter with eyes narrowed in anger and turned in a huff to find a new Grazer to target.

She caught up to the others in the end. In a move most villagers would deem reckless, she took the destroyed old trail that would cut a large distance off the route. Rost followed along, out of sight among the rocks of the slope, smiling as he watched her fearlessly fling herself from ledge to ledge, never faltering. Just as her resolve never faltered. The kids of the village may have trained hard, but there was no doubt in his mind that none had trained harder than her. Her entire life was one big trial. Now, in the biggest moment of her life, how she shone!

He was glad no one could see the proud beam on his face when she sprinted the final few yards after dropping right in front of the pack, spiking her trophy into the ground a fraction of a second before the others. The boy who had tried to sabotage her was irate, and now that Rost was able to get closer without being seen, he could tell that it was the same boy who had injured her as a child. Aloy must be feeling so pleased for putting him in his place, and much to his relief, it was by honorable means. Now, the tribe HAD to acknowledge her. She would be welcome, and…

The good feelings disappeared in the instant an arrow flew from nowhere and pierced the proctor in the chest. All hell broke loose as masked men burst from the opposite side of the clearing. Rost’s hand found his bow on instinct. Judging by the numbers, the young Braves were at a terrible disadvantage. Outcast or not, he rushed to thin out the enemies.

When there was finally a moment of calm, the bodies of several opponents staining the snow crimson with spilled blood, he looked down into the clearing to see how Aloy and the others were faring. What he saw made his heart stop. It wasn’t the bodies of the young people littering the snow in large numbers, bodies of those who should have been celebrating the proudest moment of their lives, though that was horrible enough. It was the sight of a towering figure gripping Aloy by the throat and pressing a blade against it.

Time stood still as he flashed back to a similar scene from twenty years ago. Alana… His daughter, throat slit by a bandit as he helplessly watched, unable to cross the invisible line out of the Sacred Lands. Now Aloy, who was fighting against her own assailant with all the strength she had, kicking and grunting but getting nowhere. She was powerful, but growing steadily weaker as she was being choked. It would only be a matter of moments. He moved before he even registered the thought. Not this time. Not her too. He would not fail Aloy the way he had Alana.

He loosed an arrow even as he ran, the shot flying true and piercing the man in his shoulder. As Rost had hoped, he dropped the girl and turned to face the new threat. There was no knowing what Aloy was able to see, whether or not darkness had edged her vision as the oxygen ran out. All he knew was that she couldn’t even make a sound as she sank into the snow, clutching her neck as she fell free. If he lost this fight, she would die, so he fought with everything in him. Aloy was all he had.

Both were seasoned fighters, well skilled and in possession of honed technique. The unbridled fury Rost wielded kept the fight going longer than it would have otherwise, but the difference in the end was his aging body. Despite the fire of his wrath, he was just that fraction of a second slower, that fraction of an ounce less powerful. A fierce thrust of his enemy’s knee snapped his spear, and in that opening a blade finally drove itself into his gut. Though the adrenaline coursing through his veins dulled the pain, he could feel the life leaving him as he collapsed to the ground, left to die. He could hear Aloy’s choked voice wailing. She had seen.

They began lighting fuses connected to several barrels of blaze. Those bastards were going to blow everything up, cover their tracks. Wouldn’t even bother to give the two of them a clean death first. All the better for him. Rost summoned the last flicker of strength in his fading body to haul himself to Aloy’s side, weakly calling her name. She was hardly moving now, and remained silent. How wrong this was; Aloy was never still nor silent. Fear filled his heart. Tears prickled in his eyes. One last time, he cradled her in his arms, as if she were still that little girl he carried up the mountain. His sight was growing dim, but he noticed that the blade had left a frightening gash on her throat which oozed blood. She might end up bleeding to death if help did not arrive. All he could do was pray with every fiber of his being to the All-Mother for help to come, and voice his last command regardless of whether or not she could actually hear.

“Survive.”

He rolled her limp body off the side of the cliff just as the fuse caught. He watched the girl he had raised from an infant tumble down as the heat burned him. Then, it was all over.

VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

He’d thought that things would go black when he finally died, but everything was actually white. Blank, but filled with a low hum. Was this all he would get for an afterlife?

Thankfully, no. Forms began to emerge, severely blurred at first, but gradually growing sharper like figures approaching from on the horizon. One was taller, the size of an adult, while the other was only half the size.

“Who’s there?” he called, then jolted as he realized he had a voice. Did he have a form too? One glance down at his outstretched hands answered that question. The only difference from his living body was that his hands were no longer calloused and scarred.

“Papa!” The smaller form hurried closer, continually sharpening in his sight until he realized that it was Alana, her arms outstretched with golden hair flowing behind. “Papa, you’re home!”

His human body would have shed tears to hear her voice again, but it seemed in the afterlife there were no tears to be shed. Instead, he felt himself glow with joy. Some part of him that had died that fateful day blossomed to life once more at the sight. “Alana! My little girl!” Now he stumbled forward to join her until he was flinging his arms around his precious daughter and pulling her close. All-Mother, please don’t let it be a dream… To take her away again would be beyond cruel.

“Rost! It really is you! We’ve been waiting for so long!” The taller figure was of course none other than his mate, and when he tore his eyes off his daughter, he saw the same image he carried with him, the one he saw in his mind’s eye every night as he drifted to sleep. His Lira, warm as a summer breeze, emerald eyes shining with love.

He refused to relinquish his hold on Alana, opting instead to lift her up and carry her over to his mate so they could all fall into one embrace. “It feels like an entire lifetime,” he murmured into her hair, the same golden color as their child. “I’ve lived only fifty-six winters, but since that day, it has felt like a hundred. I was supposed to die, you know. Join you both…”

“You were saved,” Lira replied knowingly against his shoulder. “You wanted to die.”

“How did you know? Can you see everything from here?” Rost pulled back curiously.

“We only get to see when you summon us,” Alana piped up. “You spoke to us a lot. We know about how you made those bad men pay, and how you wanted to die in the Sacred Land but ended up getting saved. We know about Aloy too.”

Rost stiffened as he remembered what had transpired right before his passing. “Would Aloy be here if she were dead?”

Lira ran a soothing hand along his bearded jaw, her eyes sympathetic. “Anyone who is tied together with love in life remains bound together in death. I do not doubt she would be with you if she were dead.”

“I want to see!” Frustration began to eat at him despite his long-awaited reunion. “I have to know!”

“There is no way unless someone summons you,” Lira explained gently. “We’ve passed from the living world. Our concerns are no longer theirs, even if it is difficult to accept.” When she felt his shoulder slump at that news, she continued. “When I died, all I could think about was what was happening to you and Alana. I understand how frustrating it is. You will find your peace gradually. For now, we should go home.” She pulled away, with a hand outstretched. “You should rest.”

For the first time, Rost looked around and noticed that the world was no longer blank, but filled with rocks and trees and streams, just like the world he had left behind. The only things lacking were the machines, and any sense of danger. “With you and Alana, that will be home.”

“Yes,” she whispered, and he reached out to take her hand.

“Papa, what’s that?” Alana’s inquisitive voice broke the solemn mood, and when both of her parents looked over to their daughter, they saw her pointing at a strange object floating on the breeze he hadn’t even realized existed. It glowed as it descended lower and lower, until Rost could clearly recognize it as a paper lantern, identical to the ones released at a Proving ritual.

“Someone’s prayer lantern,” he replied in a low voice. Curious, he reached out and took the lantern in his hands. What was something from the living world doing here?

As soon as he did, words seemed to fill his mind, words that were not actually spoken, but rather felt. “Prayers to honor our mothers? What a load of boar dung. Just look at them all, glancing over their shoulders to smile at the ones who gave birth to them. Who raised them. Screw it. If I’m going to give thanks for anyone, it’ll be Rost. He’s the one who raised me, taught me everything I know. He’s the only one in my life that hasn’t abandoned me and who treats me like a human being. I don’t care where he thinks he is going to hide, I swear by the All-Mother I will find him after I win this thing. Some stupid rule is not going to keep me from my…father? Is that what he is? He never had me call him by that name since I can remember, but…I wonder why. Does he not want to be my father? Is it because we are not family by blood? Or maybe…damn it, did he want to keep a distance between us because he was thinking ahead to this Proving? Well, screw that too. He doesn’t get to decide to leave me, and he doesn’t get to decide that he’s not my father. I’ll make him so proud of me. I won’t even punch the people that look down on me. Maybe then…”

The voice faded out, revealing no more, but enough had been said. Again, human Rost would have been shedding tears, but all spirit Rost could do was feel a tightness in his chest where his heart would have been.

“Papa? Are you okay?”

Rost looked down at his little girl trying to hide the sadness in his eyes. “I guess prayers really do reach the other side,” he said simply. “Now, it’s time to go.” But internally, he reminded himself of the words he chided Aloy with over and over throughout her training: in due time.


End file.
